Yoga for Runners

Yoga provides a framework in the mind of how the body aligns and feels in a variety of positions, as well as in neutral. It expands on those positions to give you insight into your body’s potential and also its range of motion. It is the best way to know whether the hips are tight, the shoulders have been hunched for too long or the back is stiff. In practicing regularly, you can see your body progress through this tightness towards a more efficient, healthier set of limbs, muscles, joints and fascia.

That’s my completely unscientific precis on the physical benefits of yoga. But I’ve been doing it for a decade, and it has helped my body stay strong, no matter what I’ve thrown at it. (Worst of all, sitting at a desk for 6 hours of the day, unable to move because of the nature of my job.)

For these reasons, it is the perfect companion to running. When we run, we’re using the same muscles continually, with a bit of variation for uphill, downhill and leaping over dog leads. Calves, hip flexors and shoulders get tight. IT bands are agony on the foam roller. The front of the ankles and the feet take a beating, and the glutes will beg for a bum massage. The tops of my hamstrings currently feel like a ball of wool after a cat has been at it.

Stretching is important. A bit of a quad and hamstring stretch after a run will do wonders for general maintenance. But in the longer term, this is where yoga can really make a difference.

Let’s go back to that framework. In doing yoga, I know how my body is supposed to feel, so I know when something isn’t right. And surely if something isn’t right, that’s going to affect my running gait. I could end up with an injury, and/or developing bad habits. In noticing these things, I can nip problems in the bud so I’m not struck down by a tight calf 6 miles from home. For example, if I’m in half moon pose and I suddenly can’t reach the floor, I know something’s gone askew, so I’ll spend extra time on my calves and hamstrings until I’m back to “normal”: running efficiently and injury-free. 

My main takeaway from Shane Benzie’s fascinating book ‘The Lost Art of Running’ was that the best way to run is relaxed. There’s a great scene where he goes to see a training session in Kenya, and bursting with anticipation, he’s flummoxed to see the athletes running 12-minute miles around a track. This isn't even a warm up for a harder session. So why are they running so slowly? They're practicing running relaxed. I read this to mean they were running in the most neutral position possible for their bodies. The most normal, the most natural. 

This is where the more spiritual side of yoga comes in, because if you can find your centre and be present within your body - if you practice that and make it a habit - you’ll find it in your run, too. And when the miles get tough, it’s a place you can always pull the run back to. In yoga, you learn where your edges are and you breathe through them to push a little more. If you can use that technique in your run too, you might just make it to the 50km mark.

(That’s what I’m hoping, anyway.)

As I said, this is not based in actual science, just experience. But with the benefits I’ve found, I can’t recommend it enough. It’s not just about the stretching. It’s about knowing your body and being aware of what you’re doing with it, so you can keep running for many years to come. 

Double Knots

I suffer with anxiety. With or from? A year ago, I would have said, “from”. I was completely floored by chaos, indecision and an overwhelming lack of grip on the world on a regular basis. Now, I’d say, “with”. 

Running is a big part of that shift. I can step outside and nip it all in the bud, feeling powerful and easy for the rest of the day. I can set aside those twitching, screeching sensations in my body and arrive at a sense of humour and clarity about things. In short, I can feel more like myself.

But if it’s a bad day and I miss that window, if I don’t get out for a run before the anxiety arises, the idea of even planning a route can feel unbearable. Which shoes to wear? What are the right clothes for the weather? What if I get it wrong? Should I try to combine it with a speed session, some hill work, a food shop? Long run or short run? Why do I even bother. What’s the point of running? Surely it’s just a waste of time. I’m wasting my time. What should I be filling my time with? I’m wasting my life.

And then a lump appears in my throat. Not like I’m about to cry, just like… like my nervous system is in agony. I lie down under a blanket for an indeterminate amount of time. The radio burbles in the background. It’s best if it’s in a separate room, so I don’t have to engage with it, but I can still feel less alone in my vortex. I feel like I’ve drunk too much and the room is spinning. I aim for sleep.

Eventually I’ll get bored, or feel better, or both. I’ll get up and I’ll put my easy trainers on. I’ll wear my favourite outfit and I’ll run an old favourite route. The training schedule doesn’t matter for today. Or maybe it does, and I’ll set out for a nice, clean session of 400m laps of a square at 1 mile pace, and the order of it all will soothe me. I’ll enjoy the simple pursuit of accuracy and achievement. 

When I come home, things won't have changed. The causes of my anxiety - if any - will not have been magically solved while I was out alternating my feet. I still have to find work, tidy the kitchen, contemplate my future and decide what to have for lunch. But maybe now I can ignore one of those tasks. Maybe I’ve managed to completely forget it’s a problem. 

And that’s it until the next day, or the day after that. On one of those days, I’ll feel strong enough from cumulative endorphins and a bit of sunshine to deal with the larger tasks. But right now, tying a double knot on my trainers will be the extent of my mental exertion. One step at a time. 

Nostalgia for the Perfect Shoes

The best running shoes I've ever had were a pair of Nike Free 5.0s from around 2015. They were black, lime green and orange, had a split sole, and were as light and comfortable as running in bare feet. They followed the craze for barefoot running, but in an accessible way. In terms of “support”, They didn’t have any of the fancy energy cell or cushioning of shoes of today. Certainly no carbon plate. They simply stopped my feet from getting hurt by stones and roots underfoot. 

They were perfect for running alongside the river at Barnes, as well as for tearing around Bloomsbury and Silvertown. I definitely wore them for longer than I should have done, judging by how many house moves they went through. I even wore them for trail runs whenever I visited my parents in Hampshire. I never got the chance to, but I’d have loved to try them for speed work. They performed a mean sprint finish. 

Nike Free 5.0

The sheer versatility of these shoes is increasingly rare. I love my New Balance 1080 V10s, but on a rainy day or with even a hint of mud, I may as well be wearing bars of soap. I have spent the years since then trying to replace those shoes. I should have bought more at the time. I moved to the Free RNs in 2018, and I loved them a lot, but I had to spend 5 minutes before each run flicking yesterday’s gravel out of the grooves in the sole. 

I know, no pair of shoes is perfect. But for me, this pair was. I found them. I really found them. The problem I have now is that this sort of shoe is just not what’s fashionable anymore. It’s all about cushioning, responsiveness and big heel drops. It’s about encouraging a forefoot strike, or supporting your heel strike. I bought the Nike Free 5.0s because I’d just read ‘Running With The Kenyans’ by Adharanand Finn, and it confirmed my suspicion that I just needed something to replicate how my foot moves.

The time has come to replace my all-rounder shoes again. I have had a few pairs since the heady, 5.0 glory days, and gradually got used to not being able to feel the ground under my feet. But my current favourite shoes are my Salomon Sense 4 Pro trail shoes because I can feel everything. I don’t need a shoe to tell me I’m running sideways over treacherous, slippery ground, I am able to react by myself, thankyou, if you'd only let me feel it. The first time I ran on the Hampstead Heath in more “supportive, responsive” shoes, it was terrifying. I nearly twisted my ankle. 

Salomon Sense 4 Pro

I flit between the websites for Hoka One One, New Balance, Salomon and Nike, and decide I’m just going to have to wait until the fashion changes again. Because we know it’s not science. We know that our feet are incredibly intelligent, and can tell our brains to adjust our movement accordingly. I don’t need to be told how to run. When I first started running proper distances with those Free Run 5.0s, I had no idea what I was doing. I just ran. And the shoes came along for the ride. 

But hey. Maybe I'm just nostalgic for those free, innocent, uncomplicated adventures.